A Woman's Looks

A woman’s looks Are barbed hooks, That catch by art The strongest heart, When yet they spend no breath. But let them speak, And sighing break Forth into tears, Their words are spears That wound our souls to death. The rarest wit Is made forget, And like a child Is oft beguiled With Love’s sweet-seeming bait. Love with his rod So like a god Commands the mind We cannot find, Fair shows hide foul deceit. Time, that all things In order brings, Hath taught me now To be more slow In giving faith to speech: Since women’s words No truth affords, And when they kiss They think by this Us men to overreach.